Lusting the Loathed
by Marvolie
Summary: Sirius Black/Severus Snape _ Pre-OotP-fic _ Revised
1. Breaking Through

Lusting the Loathed

-Chapter 01-

Breaking Through

Sirius Black, I despise you. I loathe you with all the good sense that can be found deep inside of me. Just thinking of your name makes me shudder, sends shivers down my spine, and the thought of your face leaves my face blushed and my hands shaking. Every time I pass you in the hallway, receiving those dirty looks that make my heart want to explode, I want to take out my wand and duel you in the middle of the corridor, right under the eyes of the teachers, for I don't care about getting expelled in those moments. If it weren't for my father I would do it, everyday, I would beat you up twice for every single dirty look you ever gave me. 

My mother would have understood. She would not have blamed me for getting into a fight that was about honour and pride, since she always wanted me to stand up for my rights and wishes. She was never like my father, calling me into his office to lecture me about _the responsibilities I inherited along with my family name_. I am keeping her name now, because everybody shall remember whose family I belong to, and whose name I reject to wear. 

Back to the subject of Sirius Black: called after a constellation; isn't that charming? The girls seem to think so at least, for they always gather around him, giggling and trying to get his attention, subconsciously drawn to him like moths to a flame. He must have had over a hundred girlfriends during the last three years, and he seems to change them with his shirts. Strangely however, he never seemed to care about any of them. I used to have doubts concerning the platonic nature of his relationship to his 'best friend' James Potter, whom I hate even more, though in a totally different way. They never showed up separately, always had their heads together, talking about those little secrets they shared. Not that I am jealous or something, but I've never had anybody to share my secrets with. If I did however, that person would have a lot to hear. My secrets are unheard and untold, and I believe that it is better that way. Some things should never be told, should never be brought into the light because the world is not ready to face them. And neither is a friend, for that matter. Does that sound arrogant to you? Well, then so be it. If my arrogance is what keeps people from asking, then arrogance is what I shall keep putting on display. Being alone is easy if you have never had company.

Time has changed my mind about the Sirius-James subject, I think. Nothing like that is going on... or, at least I don't *think* they still have something like that going on. Lately, James has been showing interest in a pretty, redheaded Gryffindor, a Mudblood. And Sirius' role as the most important part of James' life has _unfortunately_ come to an end. 

***

I feel terribly lonely. Throughout the last several years, I can't say that I haven't received any attention from he opposite sex, but I've never met a girl that totally satisfied me. Somehow every single one of them has been a disappointment. Please, don't get me wrong; I liked them, I really did! Only I always missed something. Something I longed for, that I needed, something they could never have given to me. And yet I've always somehow been content, because although the girls never managed to make me happy, James always did. He has been the best friend I've ever had and probably the best friend I will ever have. The secrets we share I would never trust anybody else with. He is the first person that accepts me the way I am, and that is one of those things that can make a friendship last forever. And I always loved him, no matter what he did, or what he said. But James turned his attention from me to someone else. Not that I blame him, he loves her, but he's never around the way he used to be, never there to talk to anymore.  I feel like I've lost a part of myself.  And he doesn't even know about the secret that could really divide us: the only secret I ever kept from him and will never tell…

***

He is sitting with his three musketeers again. I hate Breakfast…and lunch…and dinner, since the Gryffindor table is far too close to the Slytherin table. Sirius and his friends always choose their seats so that they have a good view on me. Their laughter thunders horribly in my ears, shattering every single positive thought I come up with in order to face their vicious, immature cruelness. Children can be so sadistic, gaining their pleasure from the pain they cause the weak. But I have mastered my sneer so that it matches their laughter. I will never again give them the chance to benefit from my tears, like the first times they managed to make me cry. The marauders. The oh-so-funny marauders. Everyone loves and envies them; everybody wants to know them and to be just like them. To _know_ them. I think I know them a little too well, having been the victim of their 'pranks' -as they call them- many, uncountable times. It hurts, being laughed at without having anyone to turn to. It hurts getting beaten up, having nobody who stops to laugh while standing in the circle that surrounds you when you fall to the ground, broken nosed. Being alone hurts and seeing them together turns that injury bleeding in my heart to ice, changing the nature of the original desperate feeling into pure rage. 

He is smiling again, and for the first time today turning to look at me. His smile doesn't fade away like it usually does, though, it stays, seemingly burned into his features. He was born smiling, I bet. One more cheery, chipper, charming baby with deep blue eyes and a fetching smile. Utterly nauseating, I think. Surprisingly, his eyes lack the coldness I despise so much and despite of that nauseating feeling in the pit of my stomach, I cannot help but smile back. It is strange to see such a tiny gesture confusing me this badly. And as I pull my eyes away, feeling my blood rushing into my face and hearing my own heartbeat, echoing in my ears, I know it is too late. This sensation that is running through my body, thumping in my veins and rushing in and out of my lungs, is the same feeling that I always have, looking at him, and yet it is different. It seems to be dominating my rationalism, forcing my rage to calm down and crumple and then grow to turn back into its original self. 

***

Time passes slowly these days. James is always around Lily, trying to impress her by showing off and laughing about her jokes even though they're not funny. _She_ is not fun to be with. And I am not saying that because of something as trivial as mere jealousy. All right, so maybe I am a little jealous, but I think such a reaction is indeed justified, considering the fact that James and I have been like brothers for years now, never apart, never letting anybody and anything come between us - until now. It feels like I am incomplete without him. Naked, maybe, and insecure. Of course I could turn to Remus. But other than Peter, Remus has a very sharp mind, and he would instantly know that I'd only want him to be a substitute for James. I like Remus, but he could never replace James. As a matter of fact, Remus never wanted to be too close to anyone of us, for obvious reasons. And ever since he told me that story about teeth and claws and bloodshed, I accepted it as a border that I am not to cross, taking him the way he is. 

There is always mealtime though. Around mealtime everything seems to be the way it has always been to a certain extend. We still sit together, laugh about the same things, talk about the same problems, but we definitely do not think about the same things anymore. Things are different now, and I would even go as far as to say that _we_ are different. Our conversations are not as open as they used to be, now that Lily sits with us. Now James has secrets he keeps from me. Naturally, he does not do that because he wants to hurt me, not because he wants to be away from me, but because he wants to stay close to Lily. With all honesty, I can say that I hate her. Even though it is for such a simple reason as jealousy, I still do hate her. She shows me how different I am from James. He can be content with his girlfriend, he can love her back the way she loves him, he can look forward to a conservative future, a wife, probably a lot of babies and a house with a white fencing. He can look forward to leading a normal, accepted life. And this is where James and I differ: I've never been normal. 

When I was five, my mother died by my father's hand. Up to that point, I had loved her, but when she died, leaving me along with him, I learned to despise her more than I despised him, because she had not had the strength and courage to run away with me while she still could. I once heard someone say that dead people turn into saints. If you only think about them often enough. He also said that with time, everything that you hate about them vanishes, leaving nothing but that certainty that had they only survived, the world would be a better place now. But my mother is still my mother, there is nothing holy about her. Because my world would be as it is, even if he had not put his hands around her throat and strangled her until her silky skin had the colour of venom and her crystal eyes were foreign and frozen. She must have been a very strong woman to have loved me enough to have stayed with my father to the very end in order to protect me, but in my eyes, she was nothing but weak. Because I am a child, and it is my right to find myself a person to project my disappointment and my fears on. Just like her. Just like my father. Just like Severus.

There's not much to say about the time that followed my mother's death. Living with my father was hell, but I survived it, getting stronger and stronger everyday, gaining strength from the hatred that filled me entirely. I wanted to grow up to be strong, stronger than my mother had been. I learned to smile even when things weren't going right, I learned to smile even while my father hit me, because he wanted me to, and I learned to smile despite of the pain that still ripped open my chest when I thought about my mother. I grew up despising authority, despising anyone who wanted to rule me. But most of all, despising my father, whom I had to obey. 

When I finally received that letter from Hogwarts, I knew that things were about to change. I was happy to be away from my father, happy to start a life of my own. But as soon as I arrived there, I found out that the world I had expected, one of freedom, dreams and free time, was again filled with rules. That moment, I swore to myself that during my stay at that school I was to break as many rules as possible. I broke my first rule on the Hogwarts Express, starting a fight with a boy whose hair had been a horrible mess. We got into a wonderful fight, one of those fights that don't hurt either of the fighters but look as though both were going to get killed. The only problem was that I got furious in the end because he had me pinned to the ground, sitting over me, and that way, showing power over me. I punched him hard on the nose, sending his glasses flying through the air and spilling his blood that now started streaming down his face onto my robes. I heard fast foot steps running down the corridor and saw a face appearing over my head, looking down on me. The face announced to me that detention would have to be served at Hogwarts. 

That had not been the last fight James and I got into. During the next school year professor Dumbledore's office grew so familiar to us that being called there didn't make us nervous anymore. I especially spent a whole lot of my time there, since my pranks and the little anti-authority paroles I used to announce during my classes caused some ado about the "little nothings", as I sometimes called those happenings. So, when I was again called to the office one morning, I walked there light-headed, expecting nothing but a detention for turning professor McGonagall's wand into an earthworm (which, of course, hadn't been my fault). Professor Dumbledore did not say a word about that particular event, though. He instead talked about my father and his behaviour towards me. Then he told me he was sorry and that something had happened to my father. I just asked whether he had died, smiling again, as I had learned it. The old headmaster looked at me for a short moment, seemingly trying to read my thoughts and then gave me a positive answer. I can't say that the smile that stayed on my face had been real, since although he had successfully done everything to make me hate him, he had still been my father. That night, James and I really talked for the first time. We talked about this and that and finally about my past. James didn't seem shocked, and if he was, he hid it perfectly. His questions were asked so that I got to talk the weight from my shoulders, afterwards feeling light as a feather, and endlessly grateful to James for listening to me like that. After that the pranks I pulled I pulled with him, and our ways – until now – became inseparably connected. 

James… thinking about him, the one who has always been like a brother to me, hurts, and every time I do talk to him, my heart turns over, showing its sensitive part, making me more vulnerable than I've ever been. It's breakfast time, time to see James and the others. I almost fear not being able to talk to them anymore, having thought about them so much as of late. Also, the secret I haven't told anybody now lies on my chest, its heavy weight forcing my heart to sink lower into my stomach than ever before. And breakfast is so close now, seeing the three persons I miss so much, and the one that I feel so insecure about. The one who is the subject of my secret and my darkest desires. James always loathed him, and that way, he involuntarily forced me to hate him as well. My mind tells me to keep up that barrier I have built to make the world believe I am someone that I am not. It tells me to keep looking at him with hatred instead of the feelings I, in fact have, for him. For *him*. Had my father ever known about this, about me not being *normal* in that particular aspect of life, he would have given me the longest beating-up session of my whole life, and let me assure you, it would have been a very long session indeed.. No, showing my real feelings is not an option I can even consider taking. But James is not with me anymore, not making me want to compete  with his normal behaviour anymore, and I am not so sure I still can behave the way I used to. 

***

I have never in my life felt this way. I feel my lips curl into a smile thinking about him. Still I blush when he is around, still my heart beats faster than usual, everything is still the same – only, I do not want to punch but to kiss the smile out of his face. I stop my pace, realizing what I have just thought. The colour fades out of my face as I notice that, really, my feelings are not at all new, that I have been ignoring that tickle deep inside of my stomach for a long time, that the rage I used to feel towards him might not have been what I had thought it to be. Sometimes, knowing the truth about something can be a lot worse than living with a lie, as I realize now. I have feelings for a male, feelings that I can't ever show, never tell or receive a response to. I close my eyes, thinking about the reaction he would show if I were to tell him about my thoughts. Impossible. 

***

I just smiled at him. I hope he didn't see me blushing. I turn to see if James noticed it, but his eyes are turned towards Lily again. I feel how jealousy comes storming back in and as I'm tired of fighting it back, I just glare at the girl with the outrageously inflammable-looking hair, seething almost noisily. Maybe, if I hate her enough, she'll be a nice girl and drop dead. Yes, maybe that would make things all right again. So it would be a very Gryffindor thing to do. But she doesn't see me, as she is only paying attention to _my_ best friend. Remus and Peter keep talking about something, but I can't concentrate on anything but _him_ anymore. He has smiled back at me. Right into my face, and although I know that his smile naturally does not mean what mine does, my heart still wants to explode in my chest. He is looking at me again, still smiling. I mumble an excuse toward my friends and hurriedly leave the hall, escaping from my own thoughts that seem to hammer his face into my mind, and his smile that for the very first time had been free of the typical Snape-like sneer. 

I leave the castle and step onto the green and still wet grass of the school grounds. Again, I am thinking of him. My thoughts turn back to his raven black hair and his defiantly white skin that makes him look so fragile and so dangerous at the same time. I do not want to accept thinking about being close to him and in attempt to make my mind turn to something else, something that has to do with the opposite sex maybe, I start running over the grounds, passing Hagrid's hut, and taking the way that leads down by the edge of the forbidden forest. I hope that by totally exhausting my body, my stirring thoughts will finally rest. I try in vain though, and when I finally turn to make my way back to Hogwarts, I feel sweat soaking my shirt. It doesn't have the effect I intended. Vainly I try to suppress an image that tries to steal itself into my mind. The image of him,  sweat covering his body, as it is pressed up against mine in a moment of total desire and lust. I shake my head, not being able to shake away my feelings, but only evoking a monstrous headache. As I make my way back to the building, I try not to think of him while the wet grass soaks the bottom of my pants and I taste salty sweat, licking my own lips instead of his.


	2. About Love Itself

What would happen if I just walked over to him and told him about the feelings he awoke in me

Okay sweeties, this story **does **contain****mild****slash!!! So if you feel offended by the thought of Sirius falling in love with someone who is not polishing his nails or Severus lusting someone who never in his life thought about shaving his armpits, try to find yourself another story, ok? 

…This is for all the wonderful persons who want to imagine the impossible and dream the undreamable…

This Chapter is dedicated to Zarya and Raven for beta-ing and for being the way they are as well as to Jessie just because…

*~Lusting the Loathed~*

-Chapter 02- 

*~About love itself~*

~~~(Severus' POV):

What would happen if I just walked over to him and told him about the feelings he awoke in me? What if I just confessed to loving him? He would crush me probably, scratch my eyes out and leave me there to bleed those feelings out of my mind. Not such a bad idea actually. Maybe that would work_._ I smile, noticing the irony of the situation I am in. Hating him had been so easy - hate always is. All I had had to do was blame him for everything, for all the misery in the world, but most of all for my own despair. Now I realize that my despair is still there, although he did not purposely evoke it. He is the reason for all this and still I cannot blame him anymore. Those feelings are mine, I feel them and I am the one who has to suffer for the mistake of feeling the "wrong" way. Taking responsibilities is always hard. Well, living with mistakes is something I have learned in my life. 

I always considered my father a weak man. I know I am not doing him right, he is one of the most powerful wizards alive, but nevertheless he is a weak man. My mother, god bless her, used to say that pride and honour were what we lived to defend. And I always believed her, taking every word she said for the truth. At school she had been a Slytherin - like me - but unlike my father who had been a Gryffindor. Like Sirius, as I notice. Now, as I begin to realize that Gryffindors can't possibly be all that bad, I am also beginning to think about changing my view on my father. Suddenly, I am beginning to see him in an absolutely new light. He never tried to teach me to defend my pride, never proceeded teaching me the curses my mother had started to teach me before she died. My mom had always wanted to make me fight and win every time I got challenged. And when she died and I had to live with my father (whom she had divorced some years before), that training stopped. I thought it was weak of that old man to keep his son from the honour of fighting, to stop me from getting stronger. 

He was so different from that sinister dark woman I had always looked up to. He wanted me to read, to learn and to find friends, which I had never learned to do before. Living with him was so different than living with my mother had been. I never really accepted him as a stand-in for my mother for he could have never replaced her. 

I never really understood why he never wanted to replace her, not even now that I am beginning to understand his motives. 

He never wanted me to fight. Thinking about that fact now, reconsidering the whole subject of my father, I see that he didn't want me to be weak as I always thought. Instead, he wanted me to stay away from fights until I had grown intelligent and rational enough to know when to fight and when to talk. I never learned that and I think that, had I listened to him earlier, I wouldn't have such a hard time trying to figure out what to do now. I silently curse myself for having been so immature, while turning around a corner to walk back to the cold dungeons that will feel more lonely to me than ever. 

Suddenly I feel someone's knee painfully colliding with the sensitive part between my legs. Shortly after that, my back hits the ground and the air is pressed out of my lungs as the rest of the unseen attacker falls onto me. 

~~***~~

"Oh geez" I curse, looking at my watch and realizing that I have barely five minutes to run up to the Gryffindor tower, get my books and rush down into the dungeons for potions class. Potions with the Slytherins, as a little voice deep in my mind whispers. How am I supposed to survive that class? For a second I think about the option of skipping that class, but I turn it down. I pull pranks and break rules, but skipping classes would have made me one of those lazy foul students whom I had neverwanted to be. My grades have always been good despite my reputation, and I want it to stay that way. 

I start running, for Professor Moristus Psychlophode is probably the most severe professor under the sun and my turning his cauldron into a miniature black hole during potions last Wednesday somehow tried his patience. To make it short: he dislikes me and displeasing him any more is not something I long for. I reach the Gryffindor tower in less than a minute, it seems, and breathing hard, I pick up my books and run down the stairs, heading for the dungeons. I am going to see Severus in a short time. Turning around a corner I speed up even more, trying to suppress a smile that wants to burn itself into my face and I close my eyes for a short second, enjoying the image of his face dancing in front of my eyes. 

BOOM!

Before I am able to open my eyes again, I feel my body crashing into someone and throwing him to the ground hard. In shock I pull my eyes open, my sight strangely, not changing the least bit. But the person whose body is pressed up against mine, now seems to boil in anger and pain. This is not what the whole body against body thing had been like in my dreams as I realize. 

Not at all.

My mind tells me to get up, but my body is not following that voice. He is opening his mouth, which I am inflamed to kiss.

"Get away from me, you stupid git!!! Get away-" I do not even hesitate before pressing my lips against his, stopping him from saying anything else. At first I feel himfalter, obviously not knowing what to do. I feel my security fade away, but still cannot gather the strength to pull away from him. This feels like the only way to kiss. The only way to be. He still doesn't respond, still doesn't do anything except lie there, his whole body pressed against mine, not an inch of space between the two of us and yet no movement. I don't want to, but I pull away in order to catch my breath and to blush furiously, having done something that could change my life totally. I don't dare to look into his eyes, placing my forehead onto the ground next to his head. I don't want to imagine what is to happen next. He is going to get me expelled, telling his father about this. His father. The only person who had ever treated me like a father would treat a son, the way my father had never treated me, would hate me. What have I done? I ask myself. And most of all: Why have I done it? 

I feel him moving under me, reminding me of how close we are to each other. I almost expect him to punch me, to shout at me, maybe even to call for help, but he only pulls his hand away from under my stomach. 

He is patting my hair! For a short moment I feel his lips brushing my cheek I am still unable to move, not being able to fight back the voice that is telling me that I am dreaming and nothing like this is really happening. His cold breath on my cheek makes me shudder before I hear him whisper: "We really should get out of this hallway, shouldn't we?" Never in my life had such a simple sentence sounded that seductive, I think, nodding slowly. 

~~***~~

Petrified. That is the word I'd choose to describe my feelings during that particular moment. When he kissed me in that corridor, stopping me from insulting him even further with my stupid, irrational, uncontrolled… instinctive… reaction. I hadn't been able to move any part of my body, while I desired nothing more than touching him, feeling his body under my fingers and his lips on mine. Being so close to him was like finally catching breath after having spent hours and hours under water, like seeing the sun after having been buried under earth for years. And that new found life had been enough for my inexperienced dead body. When he stopped his lips from warming mine, my heart skipped a beat. I had missed the chance of my life, the chance to make him feel that I desired him as much as he desired me. _Desired me._ I shyly started stroking his hair, content to be able to touch him, and dared to say something I had never in my lifetime expected to hear my voice telling a male. 

Now, opening the door to the old, unused classroom, I feel my hands starting to shake as I enter the dark and dusty room. Obviously nobody has passed that door for years, maybe decades, since spider webs cover the corners and the desks are protected by sheets that once were white. Looking at those sheets I long to feel like them. I want Sirius, who has been walking behind me into this room, to wrap his arms around my skinny body like the sheets wrap themselves around the desks. I want him to share his warmth and security with me, and I want to comfort him. But hearing him shut the door behind us, I don't dare to turn around to face him. On the hallway floor everything had seemed to be so easy, we had already been too close to each other to pretend nothing had happened, but now, since our bodies are separated again, our lips not touching anymore, that contact is broken. I feel rather than hear him approaching behind me, staring at my back, his eyes seemingly leaving hot traces on the back of my head. 

"Please turn around and talk to me!" I hear his soft voice say. He sounds as calm as humanly possible, while my mind doesn't stop its race for a single second. How in the world can he stay that severe after what has just happened?

I do not turn around. Somehow the wall I am facing seems to be of high interest to me, I notice that it needs a new painting. Maybe I will contact father about it tomorrow. Maybe I'll even paint it myself, since- _Oh man, Sirius, that feels good!_ His hands run down my back, leaving a trace of fiery shudders. One of his hands wraps itself around my waist, finally pulling me close to him. I can feel his warmth heating up my cold body, starting to heal the wounds that bleed in my heart. _How have I been able to ignore that feeling for the last years,_ I think, hesitantly turning around to face him. I feel his lips brushing my hair, my temple and then my cheek, proving how close he is to me. His shudders secure me while I run my hands up his chest to wrap my arms around his neck. I bury my face in his hair, breathing in his scent, the scent that reminds me of how life feels, reminds me to breathe, reminds me to live. I slowly pull away from the boy, leaving just inches between our faces, and regarding his eyes that show no sign of nervousness, this seems to be so familiar to him. _He has done this so many times before _I think, _so many of those girls have held him like this._ I am not unusual to him, he probably realizes how inexperienced I am, probably he is secretly laughing deep inside of his mind. 

This is the first time I am as close to someone as this. The first time I have feelings like these, the desire to hold someone as much as I desire holding him. Slowly, painfully slowly I pull his head down to me, longing for the taste of his lips on mine. But before our lips touch, not even being an inch away from each other anymore, I hesitate, seeing the expression in his eyes change from passion into something else. It looks like rage, like anger, like a reminder of that old hatred he used to feel towards me for a so long time. Hatred that he might still feel. How can I have been stupid enough to believe that he has changed his mind as fast as I changed mine? 

My thoughts are interrupted though as he presses his lips against mine, taking from me every little bit of self-control and hesitance that had kept me away from him. I pull him even closer, returning his kiss with all the passion I have left in my cold heart, feeling myself grow out of that coldness. Feeling his tongue running over my lips I open my mouth, instinctively deepening the kiss that now turns into something I have definitely never experienced before. Skilfully he plays with my tongue, while his hands start opening my robes. Attempting to do the same thing to him, I run my hands down his chest, but being not even half as experienced as he is, my shaking hands don't get anything done. I feel him smile against my mouth, obviously noticing my insecurity, and making me blush into dark shades of red and giving me the will to bury myself into the earth I am right now standing on. But his hands, after having removed my robes, start working on my shirt, make me forget my shyness, forget my blushed face and my shame and I shakily start unbuttoning his robes to make my way to his bare chest. As I feel his hands reaching my skin, I hold my breath, feeling things running out of my control. His kisses become even more passionate, although I wouldn't have thought that to be possible, as he, obviously knowing exactly what he is doing, gets me out of my shirt within seconds. 

~~***~~

Why isn't he looking at me? I can't stand this tension, can't stand not being able to breathe while the air keeps getting thicker, keeping us apart from each other while time seems to have come to an absolute standstill. The way in here had seemed so easy. Maybe too easy. He had asked me to come in here with him, after not having responded to my kiss. Maybe this was his way of taking revenge on me for having treated him so cruelly during all those years. I almost expect him to turn around, pulling his wand every second. But it is too late to go back now, too late to change anything, since I have already given him an official reason for getting me expelled.

I shrug. Actually, since I already am in this situation, I might as well go even further. This is just like pulling a prank, just like placing ghost wards in front of Professor Binns' classroom door. 

"Please turn around and talk to me!" I demand, trying to consider this some sort of a game, since keeping something away from me has always been the best way to make me want it even more. He is not going to play with me like this, not going to deny what he has offered. I slowly step behind him, literally fighting against the material air that still divides us. Running my hands down his back, I feel him shudder as I reach the small of his back. He isn't playing with me, I am sure about that now and as I pull him close to me, his hair brushing the soft skin of my lips I feel the need to taste his skin, to finally feel him responding to my actions. He shifts a little and then turns around, looking at me with those deep black and somehow innocent eyes. As I kiss my way to his lips, his icy skin seems to warm up under my lips, giving me the impression of having activated something deep inside of him, something that has slept for a long time. I feel him tense under my grasp and slowly he starts running his hands over my chest. The tickle that has rested deep inside of my heart for the longest time starts hurting, making me realize how much I actually long for his kiss. His head is now resting close to my neck around which his hands are wrapped. He slowly lifts his face away from my shoulder to look into my eyes, his gaze lighting something deep inside of my heart. The fire I had been trying to ignore for the last years starts burning my lungs, showing how much he is the breath I am taking, the air I need to survive. The longing I feel for the taste of his lips, becomes a burning storm as I see his face slowly coming closer. Looking into those deep black eyes I see nothing but a lonely boy with hurt feelings and a burning desire for someone he hasn't ever thought of to hold. I ask myself how I could have ever been able to treat him as badly and disrespectfully as I used to.

I feel so weak, having given in to James, having followed him where I never had wanted to go. I had just loved him too much to understand how he had been using me. I am mad at him still, for having left me alone, but right now I am most of all mad at myself for not having possessed the strength to stand up for my own feelings earlier. Maybe the boy in front of me, the boy I have all those forbidden feelings for, would not have that sadness written in his eyes had I only been stronger. I see him hesitate. He doesn't want to stop now, does he? He is searching my eyes for something. Judging by the expression he wears on his face, it is nothing I want him to find in them. He seems to have doubts. _Doubts_. Despair floods my body. _He changed his mind. He doesn't want me the way I want him._ And: _He is going to tell his father about all this._ Without further thoughts I lean forward and kiss him. 

The passion with which he returns my kiss is overwhelming. I have experienced passion before as well as physical love, but I must admit that nothing I have ever experienced had been comparable to this. 

I play with his tongue, but unlike the girls I have kissed before, his response seems so…perfect. As if this was the first time I really understand what a kiss should feel like. The first time kissing makes me shudder, makes me not only want something particular, but want to hold him forever. Unlike the kisses I have shared with girls before, this one is not going to be all about making love later on. It feels like this is going to be about love itself. 

~~***~~

Yay!!! I ended the chapter without a single NC-17-scene!!!! Do you want to read a third chapter? Then go ahead and tell me so… 


	3. Relieving thoughts

"What in the world took her so long to finish a chapter of three pages?" You might ask. 

I have no idea. But I'm back now and will be updating this regularly again. ::nods::

Anyway, on with the (not beta-read-) story. 

~~~ Another speaker

--- Another time

* Relieving thoughts *

Too much love can break your heart even more painful than a lack of it, I've heard my mother say when I was younger. Maybe she was right. After that one incident in the classroom, Sirius and I went on with our lives, pretending to everybody nothing had ever happened. Being so close to him had been wonderful, petrifying even. But it had been more of a dream than reality, too perfect to be true. I hadn't been able to deal with it, deal with happiness in a that big quantity. So after two months of meeting him in dark hallways, forgotten classrooms and dusty broom-sheds I had told him to stop. To stop loving me because I had stopped loving him, as well. I told him not to look back but go on with the life he had lived before there had been an us. How can I have been so cruel, hurting the only person I've ever loved like that? But I know- I… I know it was necessary. I know that I could have never made him happy. He belonged to his friends, to the "celebrities", the girls, James and… and the light. The two of us together had been like trying to combine sun and moon, day and night. We are so different that looking at him actually hurts, shattering something deep inside of me. Deep inside where nothing and no one else ever touched me. He did. Maybe that contrast hadn't been the only reason for that though. I love him, I know that now, thinking about the feeling that always filled me, kissing him. But it's not a love that could ever be accepted, ever even been made official. That love belonged into the dark. Into my world it was my love, and it should have never been connected to him. I should have never sucked him into my cold world. 

Dear, beloved, beautiful Sirius you shall never know how much I still love you.

~~~

"You don't mean that Severus! You can't possibly be serious about that!"

Severus lowers his gaze. His eyes have grown dark and cold, even colder and darker than usually. And now, after having said all that, all those words that literally broke my heart he just sneers that sneer I haven't seen for a so long time and that I have hoped to never see again as if to demonstrate to me that things are still the way they used to be years ago. He's making those two months seeming worthless, useless. Maybe that look is the worst thing about it. There can be lies behind words, but faking a look like that is a lot harder. This reminds me too much of the time before we found our love. But that time is long time gone, isn't it? Isn't it?

Still, when you think that things can't possibly get worse. Don't believe it, because they always can. Always. 

Severus - quickly turning away from me - keeps ignoring my words. Obviously he doesn't feel any pity for the one he once called his one and only true love. Me. 

I feel my voice breaking trying to talk to him again. "Severus, please, what did I do? Why this sudden change? You can't possibly want to throw away what we have! Or, is it me? What have I done, Severus?" I pause, not being sure what to say anymore. Since when is talking to him this hard again?

"I love you" I start, my voice full, serene and low. "I love you"

~~~

Finally I feel tears dwelling up in my eyes, feel the love I possess ripping my chest into pieces, trying to burst my already broken heart. I finally start feeling again. But I know that this is not what I want. I can't just go away, leaving him like this. Maybe my decision is not right, maybe I'm not taking the right way! It is too late though,  I have said too much to turn back. 

He tells me what I already know. Twice. God, boy, be strong once and realize that I'm doing this for your own good, aren't I. Aren't I? "_Come on, Severus, don't be the weak bastard your father has always been_" I hear my mother say. I shake my head. No I'm not weak. Not like my father. Unfortunately I'm not at all like him.   

"I know" I answer, shakily leaving the room, vainly trying to leave my aching heart behind with the person that truly owns it. 

Running down the corridors, I find the way back into *my* dungeons without hesitation, without even having to stop once. But it doesn't matter anyway. Having refused love, there is no reason for me to find my right way, for I have left the path already. I reach my bedroom before my heart, and I close the door to shut it out. The room is empty and dark, matching me perfectly. 

I realize numbly that I don't feel my legs anymore and I know that I hit the ground, but I feel nothing. All I hear is blood thundering in my ears, being energized by the part of my body that I so vainly wish to stop beating. 

---

I opened my eyes in what seemed like an eternity later.  

I opened them to see that I was alone. Once again. So it had all been a dream. Sirius, our love, my happiness. How could I have been foolish enough to believe something like that could actually happen to me? Things like that don't happen to me. They just don't. Happiness doesn't happen to me of all people.

There it is again. That miserable feeling I've had for all my life and that I had almost forgotten while dreaming of Sirius. But looking out of the window, I see dark clouds hiding the sun once again. It's not raining, but it's that particular moment before the first raindrop falls, that second in between rain and sun, winter and summer the time that allows those opposites to meet for the only time of the year. But the moment passes and I know that with that moment I lost the only person I've ever loved. My opposite. Sirius. I feel rather than see the rain kissing the earth, but I stay unkissed. I feel it soaking the ground, as I feel tears running down my cheeks. These are the last tears I'm going to cry for a very long time. It's my time to grow up and be the man I've never wanted to become. It's time to leave the childhood I've never had behind to start out into a totally new future without foolish feelings, without tears and without Sirius.

I didn't lose him. No, I know that I sent him away. I sent _love_ away, ignoring its importance as well as its uniqueness. 

_Like mother like son_, I figure. _Genetic crap_.

I close my eyes again only to see his face engraved on the insides of my eyelids.

~~~

So it's finally happened. The event I've been scared of for months now. It's almost like coming back from a holiday, a long and exciting holiday, a holiday from which you want to have no end. But they have ends, they all do, and I've reached the end of mine just now. I am strong. I can be strong and I will be strong, at least that is what my thundering heart is trying to tell me, the heart that once used to be filled with love but is now covered by a thick icy shell. 

I can be strong, can't I? 

I can be strong when it comes to fighting. I'm great at spell casting. I'm a pretty decent boxer and a brilliant sword fighter, but am I strong when it comes to love? 

No. No, because I don't want to be. Love is what I've desired most in the world, it is what's kept me alive all my way through torture, through pain and through nightmares. It was the only hope I've ever had before Hogwarts, falling in love and being loved in return. James had always been my weak spot, if someone wanted to hurt me, going through James was the best way imaginable, and now it's not the only one. This is not the way I imagined it to be, but it's real and it's there, it's the only thing there is about life right now, the only thing that really matters. I love him. Love him, love him, love him. And that is never going to change, not even now that I despise him so much. It's twisted. But on the other hand, it's a twisted world, this one is. At least that's what my father used to say.

And then again, why am I suddenly quoting him?

Pain is always with me these days and I've actually caught myself feeling the strange sensation of enjoying it. Every tear I cry arises my anger at him and every sigh I do makes me hate him more and that is a relieving thought in my opinion. He deserves all the hate he can get from me, for he is my one and only love and that's what love is all about, isn't it.

To me it is.

~~~

Review? Please?


	4. Boy, interrupted

-*This chapter is dedicated to my lovely beta-reader Becca. Thank you dear, without you I wouldn't be posting this now.  
  
  
  
~~*~~~*~~~*~~~  
  
Lusting the Loathed  
  
~*~Chapter 04~*~  
  
Boy - Interrupted  
  
~~*~~~*~~~*~~~  
  
Day by day I see him, laughing again, enjoying life and having got back to his old behaviour. They, Sirius, Remus, Peter and James even took up beating me up occasionally again, but I don't care. Maybe I even enjoy it in a way since those are the only moments when he seems to show feelings for me. Not the feelings I want to receive from him but everything is better than indifference I suppose. During meals he seems despiteful as ever, avoiding to look at me and in class he does his best to treat me like the most despicable person in the world which wouldn't be that bad, did it seem like he only pretended, but it doesn't.  
  
It all looks and sounds so real and it seems to be screaming fiercely into my face every second that everything we once might have had is gone. Maybe it never existed, I'm not sure anymore. And above all I know that it's my fault. I see him dating girls again, I see him throwing them away afterwards, becoming a worse heartbreaker than he's ever been because now he obviously knows for sure that they will never fulfil his expectations. They couldn't possibly. He goes through all houses, takes girls from almost all grades now since he's had them all in ours'. And he doesn't seem satisfied. There's anger behind his beautiful eyes, a fire of loathing that only love is able to evoke. He looks and behaves like a beast of prey; caught in a cage forever, unable to escape. And it breaks my heart, seeing him like that, lost and angry and desperate. But there's no way for me to change that, is there?  
  
~~~  
  
Peter is trying to be funny again. He's pathetic. And a rat as it has turned out. His eyes glitter as he speaks to Remus who obviously tries to make him feel better by smiling nicely although he probably doesn't listen to him either. Next week's Full Moon again. Poor Remus. I wonder why Severus never found out about our Full Moon nights, I gave him lots of hints, really having wanted him to know such an important detail of my life. Now I'm glad he didn't, though. I look at him and a wave of warmth flows through me, followed by a greater, fiercer wave of anger and hate. The old loathing is back. Something inside of me hisses icily. But then I smile. The old Sirius is back. I think, whistling and winking at a passing third-year, making her blush furiously. Silly girls. I tried to tell James about the situation, but he said he had figured it out already and stopped me from saying anything really. What he did in response though was beating Severus up that night. Alone and without magic. I don't know what exactly it is that happened that particular night but I remember Severus showing up with sunglasses in class the next day. Well, it wasn't enough but he definitely deserves everything that makes him suffer. One day he is going to get what's in store for him.  
  
Although… somehow I think he should get it from me. And I suppose I have an idea.  
  
~~~  
  
There's something that's definitely come back to normality. Once again, mealtime is the time of the day that I hate most. Although I desire and need it at the same time, just as I still desire and need Sirius. It's the time of the day when I have to face it, face the horror of being rejected and hated for every reason there is. The time of facing Sirius' anger and hate. This shouldn't be new to me, having been the object of his loathing for years, but it is nevertheless. It's different in every possible way there is. It's not comparable at all. Because I am different. I look at him as he is sitting at his table, framed by "his" Gryffindors, five girls flirting with him at once. He looks so much like he once did, before… before us. He's back and I hate it. Suddenly he looks at me, his eyes locking with mine, as they did in many passionate moments, but the warmth that lies in them fades after less than a second, making room for the rejection I'm frighteningly starting to get used to.  
  
I look up as I hear a sound from the ceiling. Owls. His huge white one comes sailing down from the window, carrying what I placed into its care earlier that morning.  
  
~~~  
  
Owlpost. I don't even look up, knowing that Lester will drop my daily bundle of letters on the table. A bundle that I possibly might not even open because I'm getting sick of love letters and tearstained why-did-you- leave-me notes. Really, most of those girls I dropped weeks, even months ago, I don't understand why they're still running after me. And I know that the letter I'm secretly waiting for is not going to arrive. It can't possibly. It didn't. But I need to check nevertheless, having waited for it so impatiently I think, taking the bundle into my hands. The first letter is from Natalie, a girl I dated only once, about three weeks ago, I recognise her neat, clean handwriting. She writes exactly the way she is as I have come to know her. Neat, innocent and boring. Well, at least she got rid of two of those attributes with a little help from my side. And yes, I know she doesn't deserve it, and I know I'm not supposed to act like this, but right now, there's just no sense in acting normal because nothing really is normal right now. The next three letters remain unopened for I know what it is that I would find in there, the usual whining and sobbing and I don't have any use for that now. One letter left and I know what's expecting me. My knees go week as I recognise, enchanted glowing green ink on a black envelope, Severus' handwriting. My hands are shaking, but I open the letter, knowing that my face shows no sign of my inner battle. Why is he putting me through this again? Wasn't breaking my heart enough already? The soft black paper lays lightly in my hands, pretending to have nothing to do with the heavy weight that keeps bouncing on my lungs, forcing me to breathe harder while I unfold the paper, all the while feeling a knife running into my heart and out, in and out again.  
  
He wants to see me. His words are short and precise, telling me what he wants in a few exact words. I hate him for that coldness, for the effortless calmness that I couldn't ever achieve. But I will, I will force him to feel pain. He will feel what I feel and may it only be for a few seconds. He deserves it and so much more than that. Gathering all the strength I possess, focusing all my hate and frustration on just this task, I look up and straight into his eyes. He looks so lost, alone at his table, alone between his friends, alone as usual, just like me, his eyes full of love and despair and pain. But I'm over him I tell myself. He can't reach me anymore. He's beneath me now. And I'm well prepared for this, having already expected this letter. Glancing over to the entrance I give him a sign to meet me outside the hall and get up, walking towards the exit. From the corner of my eye I see him getting up as well, a relieved look on his face.  
  
~~~  
  
He looks so pale as he opens my letter. So pale, but other than that no emotion is mirrored on his face. It's that strength that I've always admired about him, that self-esteem I've always loved so much but never really was able to understand. The colour returns to his skin and he looks up at me, his face cold and emotionless, but definitely offering…something. He looks over to the entrance and gets up. And I follow him, knowing how stupid I am to believe that he actually wants to speak to me, but I need to try at least. Out in the entrance hall my heart drops several inches as I realise that he's not there anymore, of course he isn't. I make my way through the entrance hall and kick the door open, determined to go outside and drown myself in the Hogwarts Lake, or better feed myself to the monster in it.  
  
And there he is, sitting on the stairs in front of the door, looking small and hurt and unprotected and pale and there is nothing I want more than to take him into my arms to comfort him. But I can't because I let him go. I can't because I expected weakness from me when I should have been sure about my strength. So I sit down at his side, not touching him, not saying a word. He's closer to me now than he's been since we broke up - except for the beatings - and I barely dare to breathe.  
  
"You can't leave me alone, can you, Severus?" He asks lazily, looking at his feet.  
  
"No." I hear myself say. I love you, I want you, I'm sorry this happened the way it did, I'm sorry for everything. But I don't say any of it, I just sit there at his side, feeling stupid and greasy and unworthy because that's what he makes me feel right now. I depend so much on what he thinks of me, it's hard to believe I've ever been without him. I see him moving in the corner of my eye and suddenly I feel his hand on my knee. The world turns dark and there's nothing else in the world but he and his touch and I fight hard not to lose control. And it's only his hand on my knee, I'm so pathetic. I take all my control and look up into his eyes, seeing in them the answers to all the questions I haven't even asked yet.  
  
"I want to see you, Severus, no, I want you." He says seductively and I fight hard not to faint as I fix all my concentration on him. "Meet me tomorrow night at Hogsmeade." I tell him that students aren't supposed to leave the school grounds at night, that there were protection spells all over the place, but he only smiles his beautiful stunning smile and tells me about a secret passage that nobody knows of, nobody except him. And now me. He leans over and before he kisses me, looks into my eyes and says, "Trust me." And with his kiss, deep, fierce and passionate, he takes away all my doubts, my coldness and almost the ground under my feet. But then all of a sudden he pulls away, leaving me hollow and exhausted as he gets up and enters the castle again.  
  
~~~  
  
Side by side we sit, just like it used to be. I almost feel him rather than see him out of the corner of my eyes. He looks so pale. Paler than he ever was and almost fragile in his hidden beauty. But this has to be done, I have to do it and I will.  
  
"You can't leave me alone, can you Severus?" I ask, replaying what I've imagined to do since day zero.  
  
"No", he answers, exactly the way I expected him to. His actions are so predictable in a way because he seems to be driven by some sort of an inner red line that keeps him under its force. And then, sometimes he surprises me to no limits, breaking through every pattern there is to him. But not this time. I guess this time he's too afraid to break it, knowing what he might lose if he did. I look at him; this isn't half as hard as I thought it would be. I've crossed a line that allows no return, and that makes it easier to look forth. I don't see what I'm loosing, only what I'm winning by hurting him in the most possible ways. I'm being seductive and cruel with my own, well-rehearsed appeal and I know it hits on him, giving him the sensation of being wanted and trusted and needed. I'm strong now, strong enough to deal with kissing him. It's necessary, I'm just doing it for the sake of the plan, there's no other purpose in it and I… before I get to finish my train of thought my body reacts on him, and before I even realise what I am doing I feel his lips against mine and in no time I'm kissing him with all the feelings that are left inside of me, all the longing and the pain in this one kiss and I almost loose control. But only almost.  
  
But I don't and as I pull back, my strength is back, and what's even more important - my will. All I want is to finish this, to take revenge on him for what he's done to me.  
  
"Trust me." I had told him before the kiss, and I know he will. He will be there tomorrow night. Running to meet his fate because I want him to.  
  
---  
  
~~~  
  
I know it is a trap, I realised that when he looked at me on the stairs yesterday, there was something in his eyes that told me that he was holding back for that reason, I saw an apology for something coming up and I nevertheless can't resist him. Still I am aching to see him tonight although I am very well aware of the fact that he was not offering what I wanted him to offer. He's mocking me, using my feelings to hurt me, and I still cannot leave him alone. Maybe I want to pay for what I did to him although I know that it's never going to be paid up. Running a hand through my once again greasy hair, I decide to follow his will nevertheless. If he wants me to pay, I'll pay. Although I don't quite know what he's planned for me.  
  
~~~  
  
James has suspicions about tonight I think. He's been giving me odd looks all day and asking me questions about whether Severus and I had talked and cleared up the confusions now. But lacking an answer I keep telling him that there is no such thing as feelings for Severus in me anymore, only a scorching rage. But I think that only added to his suspicions. I really shouldn't talk that much about things I don't understand.  
  
Severus seems to buy my offer though, he looks more alive than ever these days which awakens a feeling deep inside my heart that I don't want to confess, not even to myself. He will get what's coming to him; I'll make sure that happens.  
  
~~~  
  
Many thanks to you. Yes, you, the one with the shirt and the eyes. Exactly. Thank you. 


End file.
